“I need you to know that I will abide by your wishes, Cairrie. I overstepped this morning when I held your hand in front of everyone. I let Fingal annoy me and neglected my promise to you.”
“You did not. You promised to be a doting suitor, and that’s what you were. Fingal’s being an arse, and I’m sorry for that.” Cairstine raised a tentative hand, her thumb feathering over the bruise that was emerging on Eoin’s cheek. He turned his head, so his cheek rested against her palm. They stood staring at one another, temptation and desire flaring between them. They swayed toward each other, but the caw-caw of a crow broke the spell. They smiled sheepishly before sitting on the blanket.
While they ate, Cairstine told Eoin stories about her childhood antics with Fenella and Fingal. The way she described her relationship with Fingal, it sounded like they were more like siblings than anything else. Between what Eoin witnessed of Fingal’s attitude and what Cairstine told him about growing up with Fingal, he understood why she would never agree to marry him. Eoin didn’t believe the man was all bad, but he understood that Fingal felt threatened by his presence. He resolved to speak to Fingal before the animosity grew between them. One day Fingal would be Laird Grant, and Ewan would be Laird Gordon. Eoin didn’t want to cause a feud his brother would be forced to fight.
Chapter Twenty-Five
When they finished eating they repacked the basket, and Cairstine showed Eoin the market. They remained away from the keep until the evening meal, and Cairstine and Eoin sensed the tension when they entered the Great Hall. Eoin assumed it was because they’d missed the Sext and None Masses, but as they approached, the mood seemed more intense than a few missed church services warranted.
“My solar. Now,” Edward barked. Cairstine and Eoin exchanged a glance as they followed her father. Davina, Fenella, Fingal, and Bram accompanied them. When Bram closed the door behind them, Edward whirled around and stormed over to Eoin. “Where the devil have you been with my daughter?”
“We picnicked near—” Eoin looked down at Cairstine. “What was the old seer’s name? Ailis? Near where her home once stood. Then we walked aboot the market. Then we returned for the evening meal.”
Cairstine tried to intervene. “I know we missed more than one Mass. I will say the rosary thrice as penance this eve.”
Edward’s glare made Eoin push Cairstine behind him, just as he had when Edward accused her after the village fire. “You think this is aboot missing Mass?” Edward barked. “This is aboot you disappearing with the mon for hours upon hours with no escort. Gordon, you leave in the morning. There will be no betrothal.”
Cairstine clung to Eoin’s leine. Her forehead rested against his back as she trembled. Everything she’d hope for was crumbling before her, and there was little she could do. Eoin’s mind raced to devise a solution, blurting out the first thing that he thought of.
“There’s no need for a betrothal, and Cairstine leaves with me if I ride out. We handfasted,” Eoin announced. Cairstine froze while she caught her breath, then stepped around Eoin, who wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side. “In a year and a day, if Cairstine chooses to remain my wife or if she hasn’t repudiated our handfast before then, we can discuss the dowry. Until then, I expect naught but Cairstine.”
“Liar!” Fingal hissed. He pushed past Bram, who caught his arm and tugged him away from Eoin. “You did no such thing. You have no witnesses to prove it.”
“Ahem,” Bram cleared his throat. “That’s nae true. I witnessed them together in the clearing. They held hands as they spoke.”
Cairstine turned to look at Bram, but his eyes were fixed on Edward who glared at Eoin. Fingal fumed. “You’d lie for her without hesitation. You’re doing that right now,” Fingal accused.
“Ye’re questioning ma honor?” Bram’s nostrils flared.
“I saw them too, Father,” Fenella stepped forward. “I saw them walking toward the loch and thought to join them, but when they stopped and held hands. I didn’t want to interrupt, but I know what I saw, Father. They are committed to one another.”
Cairstine watched her sister, who had never been an adept liar. The young woman appeared calm and confident as she wove her story around the truth. Between Bram and Fenella bearing witness, albeit falsely, there was little Edward could do to refute Eoin’s claim. Davina hugged Cairstine, then Eoin, who never removed his arm from around Cairstine’s shoulders. He would make his claim obvious: Cairstine was now under his protection, and heaven preserve anyone who thought to separate them.
“There isn’t time to arrange a feast this eve, but we will celebrate tomorrow,” Davina gushed. Cairstine shook her head, but Davina beamed. Davina winked at her, but it was so brief, Cairstine thought she imagined it. “In the meantime, since there will be no feast this eve, I’ll have a tray sent to your chamber where you may celebrate your wedding night in peace.”
“Wedding night!” Edward and Fingal bellowed. Edward cast Fingal a quelling look, but said nothing more, appearing as if he struggled to remain silent.
“Mama?” Fenella stepped toward Davina and whispered in her ear. Davina shook her head adamantly before glancing at Cairstine.
“What is it, Davina?” Edward asked. Davina blanched, and Edward understood without a word passing between them. There was only one subject that made his wife react thusly. He nodded.
“The clan will expect a bedding ceremony,” Fingal warned, a triumphant expression on his face.
“Absolutely nae,” Eoin’s voice was quiet, but the burr in his steely voice dared anyone to defy him. “Nay one is seeing ma wife without a stitch of clothing on, and I amnae traipsing aboot in the altogether for anyone either. If they want to see a bedding, take them to the pasture to watch Twinkle and Fuamhaire.They arenae watching what goes on between me and ma wife.” Eoin’s hand rested on the dirk sheathed at his waist.
“My daughters will never have a bedding ceremony,” Edward decreed, and the color noticeably returned to Davina’s face. “We’re holding up the evening meal.”
As everyone filed out the door, Eoin nudged Cairstine to join her mother and sister, but turned to Edward once they were alone in the solar. He closed the door before speaking to the older man.
“A word, if you will.” Eoin waited until Edward nodded before continuing. “You knew my mother. You and she were a great deal alike, both wishing for lives dedicated to the Church, neither expecting the duty of having a family to be thrust upon you. My mother carried out her duties to our clan and to Ewan and me, but everyone knew she would have preferred to spend her days in prayer. She wasn’t warm to either me or Ewan once we grew old enough to train with our father. Ewan and I grew up assuming she didn’t love us, and that we were just another duty to her. When she lay dying, she summoned my brother and me to her chamber, pointing us to stand on each side of the bed. She was too weak to do more than lift her hands off the bed, but we understood she wanted to hold ours.”
Eoin paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. He remembered watching his mother wither away over the course of several months, along with his frustration that there was nothing anyone could do to cure her. He recalled that last day when she sent a servant to fetch him and Ewan.
“Her last words in this life were ‘I love you, my sons. I always have.’” Eoin swallowed again, looking away from Edward as he tried to maintain his composure. “She died a moment after she spoke them. They were the only time in our lives that we ever heard our mother say she loved us. Ewan and I often thought she resented becoming a mother, regretted ever having us. We never imagined she cared aboot us, let alone loved us. We’d grown up to believe we were merely one of her duties. She wasn’t a bad mother. On the contrary, she raised us to be educated men with a deep faith and a love of God’s creation. She just never felt like a mother once we were old enough to remember. I’m telling you this because Cairstine feels the same way aboot you as I did my mother. She feels like a weight around your neck, and she doesn’t know that you love her. But I’ve seen how you react, and I suspect it’s out of love and not duty. Don’t wait like my mother did. Let her know while there is still time.”
Eoin sighed as Edward stood speechless. He nodded and left the solar in search of Cairstine, praying Edward took his words to heart.
* * *
